Three White Roses
by Warpath Grizzly
Summary: William Tavington has just stumbled upon the find of a lifetime. A weapon of immeasurable power, and a treasure beyond compare. Catherine Greenfield is a witch, and might be the key to the wars Tavington wages, if she doesn't steal his soul first.


Snow drifted down placidly in great puffy flakes, adding to the cloak of white that covered the ground. William Tavington had long ago learned that snow like this, and any snow really, acted as a sound barrier. Noises that he normally would have heard without problem were completely blocked from him by the white veil. The horse beneath him snorted a cloud of warmth into the air, and pawed the snow at its hooves. Another horse from somewhere to his left let out a similar huff of breath. The man looked up at the windows that formed the second story of Widow White's Tavern, knowing that somewhere within was his Prize. He knew that the Continentals had seen him coming, but that really didn't matter. He had the place surrounded with two dozen cavalry men, there was going to be no escape for those inside. He dismounted swiftly, leaving the horse's reigns at its neck. He had seen Continentals that were foolish enough to let the reigns fall to the ground when they dismounted, and had hoped for the horses' sake that they didn't spook and step on the reigns. If they did, they could very well rip their own heads off.

A few of his men dismounted with him, and on his order assaulted the door. The skirmish lasted two minutes at most, in which his Prize had fired all of two shots before surrendering, pleading for his life while Tavington dragged the man out into the snow in naught but his nightgown. Tavington thought the eager surrender very unbecoming of the man who was supposed to be the embodiment of George Washington's second-in-command, but he wasn't about to tell General Lee that. Rather, Tavington had his men restrain Lee, before letting his men raid the tavern for anything they happened to want.

Tavington's cold grey eyes stared fixedly ahead, carefully and intentionally avoiding Lee's almost exasperated gaze as he straightened his jacket and smoothed back stray hair from his forehead. Tavington knew he was being watched, and he knew what the Continentals called him. Already he had earned a reputation for being rather cruel, and by giving no proof of emotion as he watched his soldiers pillage White's Tavern he was only reinforcing the rumours. He was no master of the human heart or mind, but he knew that if fear took hold of men, there was very little even a good leader could do to steady them. They were more likely to run, make mistakes, or fumble; all errors Tavington could use to his advantage. Without realising it, a small smirk had worked its way onto his face as the previous thoughts mulled over in his mind. He lifted his hand to gently pet his mount's muzzle, whispering to the gelding what a good boy he was. Arthur had been his mount for a while now, and while the horse was an easy and obedient mount, he was no war horse. Should the need to charge into battle arise suddenly, Tavington had no doubt that Arthur would flat out refuse. He was far too sensible a being to run to his potential death. Overall he thought Arthur would make quite a good horse for an unmarried woman, or a child perhaps; as he could be trusted to keep his rider safe above all else. The bay nickered his thanks for his master's praise.

"Please, good soldier, might I be permitted to fetch my coat and hat?"

He heard Lee ask just as he had been reaching up to scratch behind Arthur's ears. Tavington turned sharply to view him, taking in the sight of the General in his nightgown, attempting in vain to minimize his shivering.

"No,"

Tavington said firmly, knowing what was going to happen next. He was going to mention...

"By the Rules of War sir, I am entitled to-"

Lee began, but was cut short by Tavington's pistol being cocked and aimed at a region of his body that was most sensitive, and while not immediately necessary, was an area he would much rather keep attached to him. The General silenced himself immediately and put his hands under his arms in an attempt to keep them warm.

One by one the soldiers that had gone into the tavern come out again, some with sacks of coins, some wiping blood off their rapiers.

"Bordon, tie this man at the wrists and ankles,"

He ordered, just as a blur of white passed before his vision.

Had it not been for the girl's dark hair contrasting with the snow, he would have thought that a snowflake had passed unusually close to his eye. His eyes caught up to her movement, however, when she slipped in the snow and let out a cry as she fell into the snow. There was a general chuckle of laughter that ran through Tavington's men at her fall, though she picked herself up, tried to run again and fell once more head long into the snow. Arthur's head turned and his ears pricked forward towards her. The soldier who had chased her out made his way casually over to her and pulled her from the snow, throwing her down again onto the path that had been cleared for visitors to the tavern. She stood at once, curling her toes and hunching over to ease the cold. Her body heat was beginning to melt the snow that had gathered on her frock, making it more and more see through as the time passed. What Tavington had perceived to be clumps of snow in her hair turned out to be three small roses. By the look of her lithe and underdeveloped body, he determined that she couldn't be any older than fourteen.

"I told you they would come,"

She murmured at the ground, refusing to look at any of the men surrounding her.

"You, you little witch! You little spy!"

Lee roared suddenly, causing the soldiers to go quiet. He wasn't done there. He threw several nasty insults at the girl, and those servants and maids of the tavern that followed her, but in the end Bordon had enough sense to gag him with rope. He helped the General onto the horse of another man, who proceeded to ride away with the captive General, bouncing away unhappily and uncomfortably. It was then that Tavington turned his attention back to the little girl. He wasn't exactly sure how to go about this. He was used to scaring people into talking, but children tended to clam up when frightened. After a moment, however, she spoke out for herself.

"May I please get a pair of shoes, sir? Perhaps a coat, too?"

"No,"

He replied automatically. Her face held no desperation, or hatred, but confusion.

"Why not?"

She asked, genuinely wondering what could possibly be preventing her from procuring the basic necessity of shelter from the cold.

"How did you know we were coming?"

He asked, trying to keep his tone as inquisitive as possible, hoping to lull her into a false sense of security by making her think he was simply curious.

"I don't know,"

She said hurriedly. Tavington frowned. No one at the fort would believe him if he took this girl back to camp claiming she was a spy. They would laugh, call him a fool, and release her assuring him that she couldn't possibly be any threat. She was a woman, after all. Still, Tavington wouldn't see her escape. He racked his brain, looking through the memories of his years as a law student for something that would allow him to detain her. She shivered miserably as he contemplated it, and he had to wonder why she hadn't just gone into the Tavern to get her shoes and coat. He highly doubted anyone would have tried to stop her if she had.

"Your name, girl?"

He mounted Arthur, who was still paying uncommonly acute attention to the girl in white.

"Catherine Greenfield,"

She muttered, finally looking up at him. Her black eyes seemed to smoulder with anger as she looked up at him. He smirked. He had almost forgotten the female ability to stare someone down with furious intent, even when they weren't fully grown yet.

"Miss Greenfield, you are hereby arrested under the Witchcraft Act of 1735, for the pretence of witchcraft, and are subject to fines and/or imprisonment,"

He stated simply, motioning for Bordon to bind her hands and feet, as he had done with General Lee.

The wheels in Tavington's mind turned furiously as Bordon mounted his horse behind Catherine, shielding her back from the cold. She had known about the troop movements, but had decided last minute that her loyalties lay with the Colonials. Whether or not she was a spy, she clearly knew too much for her own good. Imprisoned as a witch, however, she could never do either side any harm. This, Tavington decided, was for the best, and so he pressed his calves to Arthur's sides, and led his troops away.

_Besides, if she becomes too expensive to keep, _he thought to himself as they braved the winter once more, _they can always just hang her for treason._


End file.
